Love Me, Hurt Me, Desert Me
by Roses of the Storm
Summary: Marco needs to feel needed. And he'll got to any length to achieve that feeling, no matter how much it hurts. Slash, duh.


Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. Hell, I'm not even Canadian. I wish I were though. Canadians have the best television shows.

Warnings: Slash, of course. Don't act surprised, it's me for Pete's sake. (Who is Pete anyways?) Ummm, a lot of talk about sexual things. I mean TONS of it. It's kind of the theme almost. There won't be any graphic scenes, but I may have to raise the rating just because there will be a lot of focus on it. But don't worry, I couldn't write a sex scene for my life. Oh, and major spoilers. For the end of whatever season just ended, at least.

AN: Gasp! I'm actually writing something! And it's not Harry Potter! I've had horrible writers block, and what started off as a quick one-shot to cure my creative issues turned into a whole story. I should be getting to my other stories pretty soon. Don't worry.

I'm keeping to Degrassi's tradition of naming episodes after songs, I'm just not using cheesy 80's ones because I don't know that many. So this chapter's song, On the Way Down, is by Ryan Cabrera, and is a very cheesy song that I can't help but love. The song doesn't really relate to this theme, but the title kind of goes with it, so there.

I didn't love him. After coming out to everyone (excluding my father of course), that became my greatest secret. I felt horrible about it. It was like I was lying to everyone around me, even though in reality I had never said anything false. And eventually, it came to pass that I actually was lying to everybody. The first time he said 'I love you' to me, I had to return the sentiment. I wasn't cruel enough to just stand there and stare. I knew he would tell Paige, who in turn would tell Hazel and possibly Spinner, and eventually word would get around. I knew that I needed to be the one to tell Ellie, or she would have my head, so I told her. And when she grinned and uncharacteristically squealed, I just smiled. But inside I felt hollow.

I was always raised to believe in love and other such pretty feelings. It felt wrong to be in a relationship with someone who I knew I would never be able to love. But I didn't want to be alone. I depended on Dylan, just like I had depended on Ellie before I came out. He made me feel normal, like it wasn't wrong to be gay. I liked having a boyfriend. It was as simple as that. Straight people date just for fun, and that was exactly what I was doing. The difference was that I couldn't just dump him when it got too serious. Even though I knew the longer I stayed with him, the more it would hurt if he found out I didn't love him, I didn't want to break his heart. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of Paige's infamous glares. But most of all, I didn't want to be alone.

It's not like there were a lot of options for me in the dating area. The only gay men that actually I knew of were Dylan, Tom, and I think Ashley had mentioned that her father was gay once. Oh yeah, and there was that waiter at the restaurant that my parents took Dylan and I to, when we had our first date. That's not exactly the greatest selection if you ask me. Dylan was too different from me, he just wasn't right. I don't think Tom was exactly on the best terms with me, at least not since I 'stole' Dylan from him. And, well, just the fact that it's Ashley's dad is enough, and I didn't even know that waiter. I may have been desperate, but not that much so. I suspect Toby may have been at least bisexual; all you have to do is watch the way he looked at JT. He was a good actor, but I have a lot of experience at hiding things, and I could see through his little façade. I would've never even considered him though, he's the farthest from my type someone could ever be. So that basically made Dylan the least horrifying option.

The first time I slept with him I cried. Not in front of him of course, but later when no one was around. Your first time is supposed to be special, but then again, your first time is also supposed to be after you're married, at least according to my parents. It might have been special if I had loved him, but I just couldn't. He was gentle and kind, and it felt good, but it was so wrong. I felt like a slut. Kind of ironic now. It wasn't as bad the next few times, but after every time I would just sit on the floor of my bedroom and cry. No one ever knew, and to this day they still remain uninformed. I have to say that sleeping with him was the biggest mistake of my life.

When I walked in on him with Eric, the feeling was so odd. It hurt. A lot. I guess you expect me to say that I finally realized that I did actually love Dylan, and that now that it was too late I felt terrible. But that's not what happened. I was hurt because I felt inadequate. Like I hadn't been enough for him. That was actually the truth too. I wasn't enough for Dylan. It just hurts to think that you aren't good enough. I thought about it for a while and I finally came to a realization. Why was I holding on to a boyfriend who I didn't love? Why stay with a boyfriend that cheats on you in front of your eyes? I didn't want to be alone, that was why. But I knew sooner or later people would start asking me the same questions that I asked myself. Or at least the latter question. So I decided it was time for the masquerade to end.

The party was the perfect time. Not only would I be able to make it public knowledge that I had been the one to end it, but if I was lucky, maybe I could pick up another boyfriend. What I hadn't counted on was Craig. I hadn't counted on him comforting me, and I definitely hadn't counted on kissing him. I almost feel bad for him now. Almost.

I still managed to break up with Dylan. Everything went fine except for one tiny issue. People noticed my lack of feelings. I was still my same happy friendly self. And people wondered about it.

They wanted to know why I wasn't heartbroken after being 'forced' to break up with the person I had lost my virginity to. Some people thought that it was all an act, and that on the inside I was really falling apart. But I just couldn't find it in me to even pretend to be upset.

But eventually people stopped asking, and I was able to continue in peace. I didn't end up going to Africa; my parents refused to pay. Which was fine with me, as I had made that decision in a moment of complete exhilaration at finally being free. My life was good, except something was missing. And that was when Craig came to me.

Ashley had broken up with him after his 'episode'. Ash is a wonderful person, but she's also pretty self-centered. She told Craig that she couldn't handle a stressful relationship at the moment. It broke his heart, but this time he didn't go off his meds. He decided that he would prove to Ashley that he was a good boyfriend. His plan, needless to say, failed. And so he came to me for comfort. The comfort went a little to far. That is to say, I slept with him. Well, not exactly, it was more of a blowjob, but to me it was just the same. Needless to say, I cried afterwards.

Craig probably felt as crappy as I did, if not more so. He avoided me for a good week before he confronted me. He told me that he still loved Ash, and that he had been upset. That our being together had meant nothing to him. I ended up giving him a hand-job behind a dumpster.

More confrontations followed, each time ending with him telling me that it meant nothing. I never doubted him, and to this day I believe that he really loved Ashley the entire time he was with me. Craig missed her, and I provided stress-relief. It also helped that he had been in a very sexually repressed relationship. He never touched me while I worked, and the only time we ever kissed remained the day at that party. I cried after every time, but in some sick twisted way, it was what I needed. I didn't have to worry about a relationship, there were no strings attached. But I felt needed, and that was the best feeling in the world.

Ash did return from England despite her threats to Craig. And the dream couple reconciled. But that didn't stop me from grabbing Craig at any opportunity and licking, sucking, and rubbing until he screamed. Or tried to. Ashley was as prudish as ever, though she did sleep with Craig at least once. But that only made it better for me. Craig _needed_ me. He needed me to relieve the stress and all the sexual tension. And of course, I needed him. I needed to be needed.

It got worse though. It got to a point where I couldn't go 72 hours without pulling him into some obscure corner and making him squirm. In between classes I would pull him into supply closets, bathroom stalls, empty classrooms; anything that allowed a semblance of privacy. Occasionally I would do him twice in one day. And no one noticed a thing.

It was then that I started developing masochistic qualities. I didn't really notice at the time, but there were little things. I liked it when he yanked my hair a little too hard. I liked it when he dug his fingernails into my neck so hard that I bled. I liked kneeling before him and being told what to do. I liked being dominated.

It was like a drug. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. It wasn't the fact that it was Craig, though it helped that he was attractive. It was being needed. I depended on Craig to make me feel worth something and he depended on me for sex. He wasn't gay. After all, a blowjob is a blowjob, whether the mouth belongs to a girl or a guy.

But all good things must come to an end. The school year ended, and I was headed to a university. Craig was headed to England with Ash. I told myself that it wouldn't be that bad. That I didn't really need him. But it was only when fall came, when I was finally separated from him; that I realized how wrong I was.

My first week at college was probably the toughest week of my life, or at least a close second to when I found out that I was gay. I couldn't concentrate, and I could barely sleep. My hands were always fidgeting, and I hardly ate either. Of course, all the teachers thought it was just first-week jitters: nothing to be worried about. My first Saturday on campus found me at a bar blatantly flirting with random people just to get completely wasted. The next day I woke up with a terrible hangover in a random man's bed. It was awkward to say the least, but it helped me. My need to be needed reared it's ugly little head. And soon, I realized that were plenty of guys in college who would gladly fulfill my needs and never say a word, or expect a relationship. And suddenly, the world didn't seem all that bad.

AN: This is from Marco's point of view if you couldn't tell. No, this won't be MarcoxDylan or MarcoxCraig. Like I said before, Craig's straight. Thought Marco will eventually get someone. He'll just be kind of sluttish for a while. Wow, this is the longest chapter I have ever written. Ever.


End file.
